When dreams almost get too real!

Early last week, I got operated on. All went well, except for the pain and the recovery process that are part and parcel of any surgical procedures.

At 3 am, this morning, I woke up for no apparent reasons, breaking sweat like I had a major seizure or something, and feeling pain in one of my surgical incisions.

Still half-asleep, I instantly put two and two together, thought that my incision was badly infected and that I was in some imminent danger. Except for my sweating bullets, I had no apparent fever though, and while my wound was hurting, it wasn't unbearable.

Eventually, I calmed down, my pain diminished and I returned to sleep. I probably hurt my surgical booboo while rolling in the bed and my mind went 100 mph to create a potent story that would scare me to hell, make me sweat and wake me up.

Hollywood in my head!

An impromptu visit: My Dad

In this series, I'll try to imagine some unplanned, surprising visits made to me by people I know from my past or my current life, but that I can't see for a wide variety of reasons. Read on...

The doorbell rings; a man stands by my door. Wow! It's my dad, just looking like he did in 1988 when he passed away...

Me: Hello Dad, what a surprise!
Dad: Hi! God, you look old!
Me: Right; I'm close to 70 now, but you haven't changed a bit. Come on in!
Dad: That a big home... Too big! You live in that huge thing?
Me: It's not that big, it's just comfortable. We actually like it a lot.
Dad: What do you do? Are you still working in the ski business?
Me: I actually keep very busy, but I no longer working for someone, since nearly 10 years.
Dad: How are the kids; you only have two of them right?
Me: Yes we do. They're both doing great. Your grandson lives in Salt Lake, is married and has a little 6 year-old boy, named Finn. Your great grand kid. My wife says he looks just much like you. She thinks his head is shaped the same! Your grand-daughter lives and work in Washington, DC, you know, the nation's capital.
Dad: How is Evelyne?
Me: She's doing just fine. She takes great care of me, much like Mom used to take care of you.
Dad: Enjoy it while it lasts!
Me: So, tell me Dad, what have you been doing since you left us?
Dad: Absolutely nothing. I live in nothing, surrounded by nothing and doing nothing. It's the total absence of existence, so you're still in a much better place. Enjoy it to its fullest while it lasts!
Me: I sure will, Dad.